for halfassed

[dreamsofpoison]

Just how and why Loki was back on Earth was a mystery. There had been no communication from Thor any Asgardian representatives. It wasn't obvious that Loki was back, in fact, his presence could have gone unnoticed if not for, well, mischief.

He'd somehow taken something belonging to one Clint Barton. Something very dear to him. His bow. Said bow now sat on a mantel above the fireplace in his current residence. It was a stone and log cabin. Lodge would be a more appropriate description. Logs make up A frame structures to support the roof. They also provide an excellent place to suspend someone from. Which inevitably happened when Barton followed the little trail of bread crumbs to find his bow and ultimately, Loki.

He's suspended near the fireplace, which is lit. Turned so he can see his bow sitting there on the mantel. He's hung high enough his toes barely brush the ground and apparently Loki took great care in securing his wrists in a specific type of cuff. The kind that would ensure he could keep him there for quite some time without much damage to his hands or wrists. He was stripped of his weapons and all his clothes save for his pants. Hence why he choose the beam close to the fire. It was the dead of winter outside.

As for Loki himself, he stood by the window, watching the snow fall and waiting for the subtle signs his captive has awoken. He's far removed from the armor and leather of before. Instead he's in simple mortal clothes but they still had a certain Loki-esque flair to them.

Comments

[dreamsofpoison]

Again, Loki laughs. A true laugh, not quite like the ones before it. "You wish me to show you?" his voice is truly amused. "I drew your bow quite easily, would you like me to do so again?"

Oh, a wicked thought crosses his mind. A beautiful thought. Oh, it was perfect.

He jumps up with surprising agility to grab hold of the beam next to him. He hefts himself up with ease and straddles the beam. There is a mischievous glint in his eyes which surely can't be a good thing. He stretches out on the beam like a cat. Looking up, he's more or less directly above Clint. Oh, he is grinning.

From his pocket he produces a key. The key to cuffs to be specific. He toys with it between his fingers then holds it level with Clint's bound wrists. "Show me."

[halfassed]

Oh, hell.

Oh, hell. That bastard. That bastard knows that the laws of physics are all stacked against Clint, and that he wants his damn bow back so badly, and that he wants to show Loki up -- bastard.

Fine.

A pull-up isn't hard. He curls his arms -- legs too, to get the muscles of his trunk moving, and, ignoring the pain in his shoulders, makes a stab for the key. He goes for it with his mouth, knowing that moving his hands or fingers would be a waste of effort; he'd be fighting against gravity and the cuffs, and it's easier this way.

[dreamsofpoison]

Oh, yes. Loki is enjoying this. Immensely. He does keep the key teasingly out of reach to the point it looks like he'll just keep pulling it up out of his reach. He could do that, but he doesn't. Instead, when it's obvious Clint is at his limit, he let's the key and consequently his fingers slip into Clint's mouth.

He still looks amused but his attention is completely on his mouth. He keeps a tight grip of the key so he will either have to bite him or work his tongue between his fingers to get it.

[halfassed]

Oh, biting is definitely the order of the day. Jaw's the strongest muscle in the human body, and Clint will draw blood. (Unless Loki's skin is impenetrable. In which case this is going to suck for his next dental bill.)

He jerks his head to the side, trying to dislodge the key.

[dreamsofpoison]

He hisses through his teeth. Yes, it hurts to be bitten. Suddenly this seems like not the best idea but then again it's still going well over all. His skin isn't that impenetrable it seems. Blood is drawn. Loki looks less than pleased but he did release the key into his mouth.

"Do not think you won't pay for that," Loki tells him as he looks over his fingers. He then seems randomly amused by something and jumps down. As soon as he hits the floor his hands go to Clint's pants where he starts to remove them.

[halfassed]

The taste of Loki's blood expands on his tongue like wine. Fine wine.

Clint hates wine, but there's something compelling about this. He thinks he could get used to it. Key goes between his teeth, and he hauls himself up again, muscles starting to feel the strain. This is going to hurt like a motherfuc--

And then Loki's hands are on his pants, and Clint makes a startled noise, and almost swallows the key. Almost, but a bit of old-reflex cleverness takes over, and he lets it fall into his cheek. He coughs, curses, as though he actually had swallowed it.

This'll be good. This way, he'll be able to take Loki by surprise.

[dreamsofpoison]

Just a little chuckle from Loki at his cough. What happened to the key now was up to Clint, Loki just intends to make it as difficult as possible to use it. Whether he swallowed it or not.

He carefully removes Clint's pants and underwear. It was a funny thing, really. When he had absolute control over him he never saw him without his clothes, when he could have ordered them off at any moment. He gives his length a fleeting touch just to see what kind of reaction he would get.

[halfassed]

He's back with his toes barely touching the ground again. Manages to support a little of his own weight that way, and, really, the comparisons to when he was brainwashed are unavoidable. Loki liked him better that way. So what the hell is all of this?

He should have given that more thought. Loki's motivations. Why he wanted Clint here, not just how Clint was going to get out with the bow. Cause now Clint has to figure it out while Loki's hands are drifting perilously close to the family jewels. He remembers servitude viscerally, the aching pleasure in his veins the closer he got to pleasing Loki. It's not the thrill he gets from carrying out a mission properly. It's the thrill he always dreamed he would get. It's the thrill he always wanted.

He shifts, uncomfortably.

"If I said 'hands off the family jewels', would it make any difference?" He just needs an opening. Needs for Loki to look away or go get some torture device, and then he'll have the chance to open the cuffs. If he gets his hands on the bow, he'll be able to get out of here.

[dreamsofpoison]

He doesn't answer right away but at the mention of family jewels he lets his hand drift to cup his balls briefly. He makes a small approving sound then his hand moves away completely. He smiles. "It could," he concedes, then that grin is back, "I do not have to use my hands." His whole face lights up. He'll just let Clint fill the blanks there.

He is no longer touching him down there but his hands aren't idle either. His hand that was bitten drifts up to Clint's chin. He looks like he's trying to discern if he still has the key. His eyes narrow.

"Open your mouth."

[halfassed]

Clint's actually pretty good at hiding things like this. He spent a fair portion of his life being mercilessly verbally abused by a very talented magician, and one doesn't come away from something like that without picking up a few tricks.

"I will puke," says Clint, "all over you." The muscles of his cheek don't bulge around the key, nor does he talk with any particular slurred words.

[dreamsofpoison]

Oh, Loki shouldn't be having this much fun. He laughs again. "How charming," he comments. It is tempting to make a bird joke. "But I am afraid I must insist."

He brushes one of his bitten fingers over Clint's lips, smearing some blood in its wake. He is asking for another bite but that seems to be the idea.

[halfassed]

One doesn't come. Clint's not an idiot, he's not going to fall for it that easy.

But his tongue flicks out. Brushes his lip. Seems he wants more of a taste of that blood -- he likes the thought that he's wounded Loki, broken his skin, exposed a part of his insides to the light. He bleeds red, just like every other fucking person on the planet.

[dreamsofpoison]

He runs his fingers over his lips again. This time, he tries to part them but not push between his teeth. If he has the key still and is concealing it, how much will he allow to keep it concealed?

Time for misdirection. "Oh, yes. Gods can bleed. Do you enjoy that thought, Barton?"

[halfassed]

He jerks his head away. "I've seen you bleed before." Not much, of course. Loki tended to get banged around and stand up with his hair maybe a little messy. But after the Hulk -- after the Hulk, there was blood.

Screw this. Loki's about to find the key. Loki's not an idiot, either.

So his elbows bend and he spits the key into his hand, twisting it to the lock. C'mon, c'mon, turn, you damn thing, turn...

ALTERNATE ENDING

[dreamsofpoison]

Loki dangles the key just out of reach. He lets it come perilously close to Barton's lips but pulls it away at the last second. He keeps them just an inch out of reach just to see if he can stretch a little further.

"Good boy," he purrs.

[halfassed]

"Damn it, Loki." The name comes surprisingly easy to his lips. He strains just a little bit further, sags as though he's given up, and then does one last heave, a desperate last-ditch attempt to snag the key.

[dreamsofpoison]

And he almost gets the key with his little fake out but Loki is still fast. He laughs when he almost gets the key then puts it away safely.

He stays were he is on the beam a while longer. He won't stay too long, should Barton get ambitious. He looks him over with amusement. "Care to try again?"

[halfassed]

No. He doesn't know how long he'll stay here, and it's probably better to even out the strain between shoulders and toes.

"No thanks." Sullen refusal.

[dreamsofpoison]

More laughter then Loki jumps down. He runs a hand down Clint's back until it comes to rest on the hem of his pants then slip between fabric and skin. He leans in closer and lets his other hand follow the line of his pants until it rests at Clint's crotch. There he gives the faintest of squeezes.

[halfassed]

Clint gives a little, aborted thrash. He can't really get Loki to take his hands away, but he can express his displeasure.

"Don't suppose you'd listen if I said hands off the family jewels."

[dreamsofpoison]

He gives a soft chuckle, nearly against his ear. He carefully starts to open Clint's pants, he goes slow, waiting for signs of protest. Of course, there should be protest, shouldn't there?

[halfassed]

Perhaps not as much as Loki might think.

Clint goes still, with Loki's hands that close. He remembers going to his knees for Loki, while everything felt so sharp and clear. Remember how Loki sighed in release.

"Loki," he growls.

[dreamsofpoison]

"My name is hardly a protest, Barton," Loki points out helpfully. He presses up behind him and rests his chin on his shoulder. His hands push his pants down from his hips, leaving him exposed but not touching him.

[halfassed]

He doesn't cooperate. Tensed thighs, trying to keep Loki from being able to pull the pants down. But he doesn't fight that hard, either.

"I'm not your slave," he says, tightly. "I'm not yours at all."

[dreamsofpoison]

"No?" sounding half like a question and half like agreement. He settles his hands on Clint's hips. "Then what are you?"